Another Way
by boethiah
Summary: .:She is like a blazing fire, burning with even more intensity than the pain in his mind:. AU. Shepard gets Saren to break free of indoctrination. Not everyone approves of his survival... or his addition to the team when she returns from death's grasp. (chapters 1-4 recently subject to minor rewrite)
1. Chapter 1

"You could have resisted. You could have fought! Instead, you surrendered. You quit." Shepard's words are accusing, hard. You had a way of stopping this but you didn't. The galaxy will fall because of you. She is so small compared to him, barely half his size and inferior in everything but she has still hunted him across the galaxy, found his secrets and plans and obliterated them to the point where even the synthetic creature she set out to destroy became intrigued. The words falling from her lips are poison made to weaken your resolve ringing so true that they penetrate his thoughts, wrap around his mind like they did on Virmire and he wants her to be right, wants it more than he ever wanted power.

"Maybe you're right... Maybe there is still a chance for... for-" Saren feels his insides twisting as he finally accepts her words, feels a physical bone-crushing pain rush through his body. "The implants... Sovereign is too strong. I'm sorry. It is too late for me."

"There is still one way to stop this, if you've got the guts." She lowers her pistol and meets his gaze. The resolve in her eyes gives him strength to resist the unnatural urge to shoot her, kill her, destroy this organic vermin that thinks it can oppose us.

"Goodbye, Shepard. Thank you." The older Spectre raises his gun, placing it just under his jaw. The voice in his mind is too powerful to fight. He has to accept that Shepard was right all along, that he was nothing but a tool. At least through the human's persuasion he can die with his mind being his own, not a... a madman like the other one. What was his name...?

"Don't."

Shepard slowly walks forward, thoughtful gaze never leaving the turian ahead of her and he pauses, a flicker of hope in his eyes. Saren doesn't want to die. He has been thinking so much about Shepard's words on Virmire, has been wondering about her conviction about the Reapers and why it strikes a chord within him and now it seems as though she is offering him salvation despite what she's sacrificed to end him. But how can she possibly undo the infection in his thoughts?

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"Shepard, what are you-" Kaidan starts, but interrupts himself when it is blatantly obvious that he will be ignored no matter what he says. He wishes she would explain, though, because this... she's been so focused on spilling Saren's blood ever since Eden Prime and the one-eighty is a bit too strange. Doubt settles in his mind; is Shepard, too, indoctrinated? Have all these Ciphers and visions and contact with Sovereign taken her mind away? If so, can he pull the trigger? He's not sure. He's not sure Garrus will be able to, either, and so he just watches his commanding officer, scared he will have to choose between her life and his own.

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"You can fight this", she says and steadily approaches Saren. She is like a blazing fire, burning with even more intensity than the pain in his mind and for an instant he forgets that she is human, that she has been opposing him for months. "As long as you fight them there's a chance. Just let me get to the control panel. I can override the systems." She holds up an OSD, the surface of it reflecting the light of the flames and even though it is so small it looks bright enough to shine into any black hole; a beacon of salvation. "I can fix this. I can still save the galaxy from those machines."

Saren does not speak, just takes a step forward, forgetting about the glider beneath his feet. He falls, but just for a second because she is a biotic too and has enough presence of mind to pull him to the platform where she stands and he sits at her feet as she opens the ward arms, commands a fleet, saves the Council.

He is fighting a battle too - a battle for his mind now that he truly realises that it is not his own anymore. A thousand thoughts compel him to grab Shepard's ankle, pull her down and strangle her. A thousand more tells him to shoot her, as he still has his gun. Another thousand commands him to kill the other two standing a few feet away, just to catch Shepard off guard (and he thinks that he should know the turian because it is the one who tried to investigate him - him, a Spectre! - but Sovereign has not paid attention to that detail and so the name is currently missing). All the while, Saren resists, his body reacting with agony. He feels feverish, helpless as he groans and falls over without any of the three standing above him even attempting to lend a hand.

One thought suggests that all the human wanted was for him to suffer, because they're all like that, aren't they? Didn't he see that time and time again during the battle for Shanxi?

One thought tells him that if Sovereign is destroyed, the whole galaxy will perish. Saren is the only hope for organic life everywhere.

One thought whispers that he is already part synthetic and that makes him so much stronger, so much faster, so much better. Should he not allow others to experience this pinnacle of evolution?

"No."

His voice is so much stronger than he expected, clearly audible despite the sounds of battle, alarms, raging fires. The other three step away, looking down at him. The male human looks to Shepard, a question on his lips.

"This isn't our battle. If he wins, we all win, because then we prove to the Reapers that their indoctrination isn't absolute", she replies. "If he doesn't... Garrus, you know what to do."

Garrus. The turian. Garrus... Vakarian. The name comes back to Saren, clear and sharp like a shard of ice. Other names pour in, names that belong to faces that have gone blurry since Sovereign got a grip of him. Desolas. Sanders. Harper. Sha'ira. Those names used to mean something, used to make him feel something - regret, fury, anger, relief. He hadn't much cared for the Consort, but she is an expert at making people wind down and most Spectres spend some time around her every now and then, even if just for a quarter hour's conversation. He hasn't seen her since... since he first got a fixed location on Sovereign. Had the Reaper looked into his mind and found how perceptive the asari is, deeming her a threat? Possibly. And now, that he sees things clearly, he pieces old memories from nearly thirty years ago together with the sounds and feelings of Sovereign itself, put what he had seen in Temple Palaven together with the husks. He lost his brother to the Reapers more than to the humans and their war. Why hasn't he seen that before? Why-

He moves to support himself. One hand brushes against the tubes hanging by his side and he knows why, is repulsed by how easily he was convinced to allow the ancient machine to do this to him. He believed, truly and unquestionably believed that he could save at least his own people from annihilation but now it seems that the poison of indoctrination is in too deep, wrapped around his spine.

The human resisted. Will I be lesser than her?

The thought is clearly his own, angry and hard. He knows the answer, the only possibly answer, and with a groan he grabs the tubes and rips them out. It is not much but it's something, an action of defiance, resistance and the world goes dark as Sovereign growls inside Saren's head and screams outside of it as its shields flicker and fall.

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Garrus keeps his rifle trained on Saren's head, mandibles flickering with fury. He wants to pull the trigger, just end it all, but Shepard has earned his trust and he will only do it if there is a reason to... not that allying oneself with the Reapers and planning the destruction of all organic life isn't a damn good reason as it is. He glances up at Shepard, who stands by the console with her eyes on her omni-tool, her mind with the fleet attacking Sovereign.

He could shoot. Claim Saren was reaching for his own gun. Kaidan is looking at Shepard, too, and wouldn't be able to support or deny it.

He should shoot. For everything the Spectre has done. For everyone on Eden Prime. For Chief Williams. For giving that asari to the Thorian. For letting the geth kill so many colonists on Feros. Shepard should want him to shoot - she's assured them all that she would kill Saren, make him pay, and now she's just standing there with the other turian still breathing in her presence. It is wrong on so many levels and Garrus' finger is gently brushing the trigger as the man by Shepard's feet moves his hand. The shot goes off on instinct, a bullet piercing the kinetic barriers and burying itself in Saren's shoulder and while there is a cry of pain, it is nothing compared to the noise the Reaper makes.

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There is so much destruction, so much fire and blood where there used to be shining white metal and green grass. Even the synthetic sun glows with a colour that is all wrong, orange like a sunset rather than the constant bright daylight.

David Anderson is running, a human C-Sec officer just ahead of him. The security feeds told them that Shepard's signature was picked up in the Council chambers before the destruction of the Reaper and he hopes that she will still be there, breathing and proud and one of the best damn soldiers he has ever had under his command. The geth, lying inactive all over the Presidium, doesn't worry him for a moment since he is fully aware of his own capabilities and Shepard is better because what she lacks in subtlety she more than makes up for in force and raw power. No, what worries him is that she seemed to have such a clear goal which can only mean that she knew where Saren was. Is? It is not impossible that the turian won their fight; very little movement has been detected for the past half hour and if he somehow got away...

Shaking his head, Anderson gets into an elevator and punches the button that will take him to the Citadel tower, wishing he could just know what happened instead of standing there, unable to do anything, as he slowly ascends and once he's at the right level he hurries out with his heart in his throat. It still takes too long before Alenko and Vakarian are found and Anderson immediately asks for Shepard.

He might not ever have been good at reading turian facial expressions, but Garrus' eyes and the way his mandibles curve down tells him more than he ever wanted to know and he has to force himself to look at the chunk of Reaper that (supposedly) makes up her headstone.

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Saren stirs as too many fingers are by his throat, pushing gently against the rough skin beneath his jaw in search for a pulse. They withdraw as soon as he moves, and as he opens his eyes his vision is filled by the muzzle of an assault rifle and his mind feels hollowed out.

"You all there?"

It's Shepard's voice, though he doesn't recognise it at first because instead of being loud and angry it's low and dangerous, filled with venom instead of conviction. There is something else, too, like he hears it differently; as if it comes through unfiltered.

"My mind is my own", he says, using the same words he shared with her on Virmire but they feel like truth this time and he wonders at that.

"Not sure if that's an improvement", she says, lowering the gun, "but I'll take what I can get."

He glares up at her. She is framed by the warm glow of several fires and the cold light of Widow. Parts of Sovereign lie scattered all around them. It looks as though she brought the Reaper down herself, tearing it apart with her own two hands and that determination and rage that almost matches Saren's own. If it really was his at the end. He almost considers appreciating the image despite the fact that she belongs to such a sad species, but doesn't because-

because there should be a voice there, interrupting this train of thought with hot whispers about how inferior organics are to synthetics, words burning away his resistance, suggestions that increases his hate for humans. It has been there for so long and Saren feels fearful when he realises that his mind was stolen from him many, many years ago and hateful when he thinks that Shepard was the one who broke Sovereign's hold. He had thought it would be too late when he gave in to the Reaper because he could feel the changes in his bones, around his skull, deep in his lungs and on the tips of his talons.

But she saved him. Saved him and doomed the galaxy and he is not certain what to make of this woman whose back is turned to him and whose leg is obviously injured as alien red blood drips onto the floor from a crack in her armour. He finds it strange, strange that Shepard bleeds like every other organic.

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Kaidan doesn't know what to think. First he sees Shepard, alive though it should be impossible, one of those incredibly rare smiles on her lips and he cannot help but smile himself despite the grief that held him firmly moments ago. Then he sees Saren, also alive though it is detestable and his smile falls at the same time as Captain Anderson's.

Shepard notices and turns her head to the turian Spectre, her expression thoughtful for about a second before she moves closer to Anderson with determination in her gaze.

"If Saren hadn't broken free from the indoctrination Sovereign wouldn't have dropped its shields. We caught it off guard."

She has this way with words... or, really, with the way she says them; like there isn't any other truth and Kaidan can't help but believe her. It's part of what makes her a leader. It's why people follow her all the way to hell even if it means death, like Williams. There wasn't any trace of regret in the Gunnery Chief's voice when she said her last words because she believed in Shepard, even as she knew she wouldn't draw many more breaths and Kaidan feels like he would let Ashley down if he doesn't trust his Commander now, listens to her reasoning. It's not like saving the world comes with rules; he knows that now, knows that you have to adapt to whatever the galaxy decides to throw your way and trusts that that's what Shepard does right now.

"I don't understand, Shepard", Anderson says. "What are you going to do with him?"

A couple of other C-Sec officers arrive, their radios buzzing with people trying to organise police and medics on every section of every ward to maintain some kind of order and take care of the wounded. There are still geth moving about in the Presidium ring and on the lower ward levels, but the panic has subsided and people are really fighting back after Shepard proved that even unknown enemies can be defeated. The officers stare at Saren, uncomprehending and the whole Council chamber seems to hold back.

"It's in the Council's hands now", Shepard says, and Kaidan shakes his head as Garrus puts words to his disbelief.

"You're just going to turn him over? What will they do? Put him away in a cell somewhere?"

She looks at him, one corner of her mouth almost curling into the shadow of a smile. "Killing him would be too merciful."

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Saren doesn't quite listen to the conversation, lost in his own mind. He tries to shape coherent thoughts, to make sense of the fractured memories but finds it difficult. It feels as though there is something in the way, but also as though he can think and feel clearly for the first time in years and it catches him off guard enough for it to be a surprise when the C-Sec officers move cautiously towards him.

"So this is it, Shepard? You defeat me and throw me into prison. I almost thought you were a worthy opponent", he hisses. He doesn't bother resisting when he is handcuffed; there is nowhere for him to go and there is no doubt in his mind that should he flee, Shepard will hunt him down again, this time without any offer of mercy.

"I thought about killing you", she says, back turned again as she moves toward Anderson and her two squadmates, "for Ashley. For Benezia. For everyone in Zhu's Hope and on Eden Prime. But that'd only give me satisfaction."

She treats him in a way no opponent ever has before. Like he is no real threat now, no one to pay attention to. He glares at her as she turns her head enough for him to see her eyes, cold but still furious. There is no mercy there. There never was, he realises, and hates her because they are more alike than he thought. "And this?"

"I figure you'll have a trial. I figure it'll be broadcasted via the extranet and that everyone with avid screen will be watching because it will feel like justice to them."

"You are aware that there is video surveillance here? They could watch you kill me from ten different angles." He is not eager to die, but suddenly not being in control of anything feels worse than asking her for this.

"Yeah", she replies, and maybe there is a trace of something new in her voice, as if she is considering it. "But I think you'll suffer more behind bars than with a bullet in your head."

And with that she leaves and he is left behind and a part of him wants her to remain because she is the only solid, the only constant, the only thing he can rely on without seductive whispers and trickles of new tech along his veins.


	2. Chapter 2

Saren's trial is still only in a preparation stage; it seems the Council is either stalling because they have no idea what to actually do with him or because they are going to go through every transgression he's made in the past few months. He knows that if it is the latter, he might have to wait for a very long time.

His waiting is interrupted once and he is not sure if it has been days or weeks since someone spoke to him and didn't just leave trays of food. She is not a welcome sight but she is the only person he wants to see. He hates her but his hatred is comfortable, something as reliable as her sharp gaze and the contempt resting like a mask over her features.

"Did you decide a trial wasn't satisfactory enough?" he asks, only glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

She just stares at him, not answering. "Alliance Command tasked me with cleaning your geth up. Got anything I can work with?"

He stares back, disbelieving. "Why would I help you?" At the back of his mind, there are words itching to come out, words of how he was never truly in control of the geth and of how he is certain that there are several strongholds that he knows nothing of but he holds back, unwilling to share anything with this woman who has left him with nothing.

"I'm influential these days. Could've asked them to go easy on someone who was indoctrinated", she says with a shrug and leaves when he says nothing.

It is the last time he sees her before she dies.

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He isn't told right away; he still doesn't have access to the extranet and the vid screen in his cell only broadcasts approved channels. There aren't many of them that interest him, and most of them have a habit of talking about him these days, always with disapproval. It is as though the galaxy has forgotten that he used to be someone they admired. Someone ruthless and driven, sure, but also someone charismatic and someone who got results. Someone who, when made aware of the threat, tried to save them. He resents how easily they forgot all of that the moment he fell from grace and so he doesn't receive the news until two days later, when the cell door is opened and Garrus Vakarian walks in.

The other turian's face is tight, as if relaxing even a fraction would cause him to fall apart. Saren assumes it is out of anger, is about to speak and attempt to push him over the edge to break the constraints of boredom but is stopped by the words that have changed the galaxy.

"Shepard's dead."

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Garrus feels as though something in his throat blocks his words but they come out anyway and the complete disbelief of expression crossing Saren's features momentarily makes him feel slightly better; as if even the discharged Spectre has seen Shepard's worth and just has to doubt the fact that she could be gone.

"How?"

"Unknown ship attacked the Normandy." He considers mentioning that she died saving Joker - and a tiny part of him resents the helmsman for being alive when Shepard isn't - but doesn't think Saren deserves to know about her final act of good.

"Why are you telling me this?" There's disgust in the older man's voice, impatience, as if what he's heard doesn't matter.

Garrus turns away as he says, "Because she'd want you to know."

It's true. He wasn't on the Normandy during the attack, having chosen to remain on the Citadel to train to become a Spectre candidate once again, but he knows Shepard. Knew Shepard. Her influence on him is still so strong that it feels wrong to think of her in the past tense because during the months he served under her she came to be his closest friend, his mentor and so much more than he can truly comprehend because she had a way of seeing people and helping them be the best that they could. She asked everything of him - of all of them - and even more of herself.

The door closes behind him, a guard locking it firmly, once again separating Saren from the outside and Garrus walks away. He doesn't really want to go, because this is a Citadel in grief over the woman who saved them and every corner seems to hold memories of her fiery gaze and forceful voice, but he wants to linger at C-Sec even less.

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Saren stares at the wall for a few short minutes, trying to make sense of it. Shepard's life was once in his hands, talons pushing against the soft skin of her throat and she still wouldn't yield, wouldn't submit. If he couldn't kill her then, what possibly could? If it'd been a Reaper, he feels like he would know but isn't sure how. Maybe there are still whispers in his bones.

He turns the vid screen on, searching for a human news channel and finds it but it still takes an hour of insufferable nonsense before her name is mentioned, and even then all they talk about is her heroism. None of this is news to him; he knows her service record, heard Nihlus speak of her in the past - it feels like a lifetime ago - but he still doesn't turn the screen off. The Shepard they speak of is a Shepard who is a stranger to him and he wonders how the image of someone so straightforward can be so warped.

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It takes two days before there is anything of substance. The security feeds from the Normandy have been leaked and three supposed experts - two humans, one turian - try to sound as though they know what they're talking about as they discuss the colour of the flames and the weapon that cuts through the hull with very little resistance. They mention heat and lasers and other things that have no meaning to Saren as he watches her, this woman who saved the galaxy just a couple of months ago, as she allows the crippled pilot's life to take priority over her own.

It infuriates him. As much as he hates her, he knows that she is better - worth more - than the man who wastes time trying to save a ship that is falling apart beneath his feet.

He watches her struggle for air, fight until the very last breath as she drifts towards a planet shrouded in ice and when she disappears, hitting atmo and burning as bright as the distant stars, he experiences a thoroughly unexpected emptiness.

This is not the way it is meant to end.


	3. Chapter 3

One month

At times, when a person is missing or dead, whole worlds can feel depopulated.

Saren has no warm feelings toward Shepard - unless you can count the burning rage that sometimes tears through his chest, that is - but he feels as though she, in her complexity, understood him. Something in her eyes suggested that she'd known that his intention had been to keep the galaxy safe, that she'd known he hadn't just said those words about saving more lives than had ever existed but actually meant them and without her out there, sailing the stars and causing explosions that stay on your retinae for several minutes after they've died down, the galaxy feels significantly emptier.

She was supposed to be present for his trials. Instead, David Anderson takes her place as primary witness and speaks with the same heat he had in his voice when Kahlee Sanders' life was endangered. Saren muses, involuntarily, that Shepard would never have ended up a hostage incapable of breaking out and is annoyed with himself when he realises what goes through his mind. This reluctant respect he has for her, which increases when he hears about how she destroyed the Thorian and the assumed number of geth she killed, is unwelcome but impossible to ignore and one day the grief hits him.

He sees her face, that unwavering gaze, in an ad for the Alliance as he is escorted back to his cell by five guards. Her fingers are touching her temple in that strange human salute and a voice that is definitely not hers although it sounds like it encourages anyone who passes to make humanity proud: join the Systems Alliance and it feels like a mockery because they, the people she has worked for, don't know her. He does. He might not know her desires or wishes when she was capable of having them, might not know how she sounded when she laughed, might not know what she used to enjoy or dislike or why she was the way she was but her life was in his hands, once, and he saw her more clearly than he thinks her superiors ever did.

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Three months

The hours in the prison are like gray squares, neatly fitting in next to each other, all the same in size, shape and colour.

Nothing happens.

Nothing changes the pattern.

Saren stares at the walls and thinks of his brother. Food is delivered and empty trays are taken away. He is questioned by a salarian once a week, goes to the Council chambers once a week and both occasions are always the same, questions asked in new ways but wanting to hear the same thing and eventually the Council and the public manage to delude themselves into thinking that Saren was just insane and Sovereign was a geth ship.

He doesn't correct them.

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Six months

One day, her image is finally gone and he is glad to be rid of her piercing gaze but feels... emptier. The woman who replaces her has green eyes and red hair just like she did, but this one looks fake and unnatural in comparison.

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One year

There are still whispers out there, somewhere beyond the edge of his consciousness. He has been on several operating tables over the past year, countless doctors peering at the oddities of his physique and he knows that they will never be able to extract every piece of Reaper technology. Impossibly tiny and incredibly complex things crawl into his bone marrow every time a scalpel sinks into his flesh, every time his carapace is broken and mended again.

Saren does not listen. The galaxy is doomed anyway.

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One year, eight months.

He feels as though he should be angrier. With the Council for not listening to him, with Shepard for stopping him, with Nihlus for being trusting and not stopping him, with the Reapers for taking Desolas' mind and with nearly every government official in Citadel space for turning their backs on him, treating his words like lies made up by a deranged mind.

What he feels instead is hopelessness. They could strike back against the Reapers, prepare themselves, do something but the Council seems to think that if they lie to themselves enough the truth of the threat to go away and he has no desire to change their minds.

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Two years, one month, eleven days

"With what authority?"

"Spectre authority."

The voices are right outside his door, the first one a turian and the second... the second is a human. Female. Spectre? This is mildly surprising, since he has never seen any human female competent enough to join the ranks except the one who brought him down. He stands up, arms folded, anticipating... he is not certain what.

Definitely not what happens during the next few seconds.

The reports of her spotted on Omega never reached him. He has not cared about the galaxy for so long, has not bothered to keep up with the constant stream of news and no one has bothered telling him that she once again breathes and fights but here she is, standing in the doorway of his cell, framed by the harsh light of the corridor. There is no doubt in his mind that it is her, red stripe down her arm and eyes like fire but he knows that what he sees is impossible.

And still...

"Shepard", he says, the shape of her name strange in his mouth.

"I'm on a mission." She doesn't greet him, doesn't explain, just says what she's there to say. Her face is an open book but full of complex riddles written in invisible ink. "Colonists in the Terminus systems are being abducted. I'm going to stop that and need the best people the galaxy has to offer. I despise you" - but there is no malice in her voice; she is merely stating a fact - "but you get results. Come with me and follow my orders and maybe you won't spend the next decade here while the Council tries to decide what to do with you."

He has gone insane. That is the only explanation for what he can see and hear, the only reason why she would appear and offer him this, he thinks, but maybe there is a tiny and improbable chance that this is real.

"I accept."

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(author's note: Avina states that Shepard's last visit to the Citadel was two years, three months, seventeen days ago when you first return there in ME2. That is, however, not quite how long s/he's been dead since at least two months were spent looking for clues to disappearing ships in the Amada system. Only adding this because I am picky with timelines matching up myself... unlike bioware :|)


	4. Chapter 4

This second Normandy looks as odd as the first one, human and turian structures entangled in a way that makes it difficult to discern what originates from where. She looks sleek and silent and strong, just like her predecessor which dealt the killing blow to Sovereign, and Saren thinks of all the great things he could do with a ship like this as a human female with clothes as tight as her soft skin and contempt all over her face escorts him to the briefing room while Shepard disappears for a minute, maybe two.

The other female introduces herself, talks about how she brought Shepard back but doesn't brag and makes it sound less than the astonishing scientific breakthrough it is and more like something that just needed to be done. She talks about Cerberus, an organisation he's heard of but never paid attention to because he thinks all humans are terrorists at heart, and mentions what Shepard failed to; that their mission is to take down the Collectors. He is unsurprised that they supposedly work for the Reapers since, as far as he knows, the exchanges would be beneficial for both parties and he is equally unsurprised that Shepard has been recruited to perform the task of stopping the elusive creatures. But what he doesn't understand is why this dark-haired woman, who doesn't seem to like Shepard at all based on her tone when she speaks of the Commander, has spent so much time on bringing a dead soldier back. Surely they could have spent that time coming up with another solution, another way of dealing with the Collectors.

Saren is mid-thought as the door slides open and he is momentarily perplexed at Shepard's appearance. The lack of armour makes her look small, weak, breakable and he toys with the thought of slamming both females into a wall and tear Shepard's jugular open with his teeth or push his sharp talons into her abdomen and rip her vital organs out but it is a thought that is habit rather than genuine malice. Should he do it he knows that he will be returned to the maddening blank white prison cell, and if she's been brought back once he is certain she could be again and he is not particularly interested in finding out what she would do to him should she opt to take revenge. He owes her, at any rate - if nothing else, to leave her alive.

Shepard barely glances at the other female, simply goes over the rules - he is to be escorted by an armed crewman or a member of her squad everywhere, he is going to get a bunk in the cargo hold where no one is put at risk should he go crazy, he will be handed his weapons before joining her on missions rather than retrieving them himself - and while she slowly paces back and forth he watches her. There really isn't much about her that's intimidating; compared to him she is short, slim, giving him the impression that she should be weak and he is again annoyed that the galaxy is so in awe with this inferior creature who caught you and broke you and freed you. Even the Cerberus woman seems to respect Shepard's accomplishments despite her own astounding feat of cheating death.

When he focuses on the Commander's face, he notices the angry spark of red in those vibrant eyes as well as the fact that her scars are glowing. He hadn't seen that in the sharp light of his cell, had only seen the back of her when she brought him to the ship, and now he lowers his mandibles a little in a subtle grin because the Cerberus woman mentions that the ship's A.I. will monitor him constantly and the way Shepard's features tighten in annoyance makes him want to laugh at her.

"It seems your death has made us even more alike than before, Shepard", he says and lowers his mandibles further when her hands clench into fists.

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"I doubt it", she replies, voice strained. "The computer doesn't tell me to attack colonies."

"I doubt you're standing up without extensive cybernetic work after just two years. Don't be blind to the obvious similarities. You're not that stupid."

Shepard resists the urge to connect her fist with his face and turns to Miranda. "Let Mordin put the tracking chip in and then get Saren down to the hold", she says, taking care not to let her anger twist her features. She turns to the door, walks out and feels his eyes on her back, her neck, tangled in her hair. With quick strides she moves through the armoury and the CIC before taking the elevator down to crew deck where she lets herself into the port side observation room and wordlessly demands the attention of the area's only occupant.

"Hey Shep!" the thief says, her voice as light as her movements when she shifts position on the couch. She seems about to speak, but her Commander doesn't leave enough space between words for an interruption.

"You said you needed help with a heist." Shepard folds her arms, resting her weight on her back leg. "I figure that since we're in the neighbourhood, we might as well take care of it now. I'll plot a course and meet you by the shuttle when we're in orbit." She turns without waiting for acknowledgement, heading up to the CIC again to work by her terminal.

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When the elevator doors open in the hold, Saren barely glances that way. People have been walking in and out, pretending to pick something up from a storage crate or needing to ask the people working there about something. It is obvious that they want to confirm his presence and he lets them, only growling when they stare for too long. A girl with red hair and green eyes - like Shepard, but definitely not like Shepard - walked up to him and was all bright smiles and adoration for the ship's CO and he wanted to throw her out the airlock but knew he would follow and resisted. She left soon, however, perkiness somewhat diminished and he has been left alone since.

But now Shepard appears and he almost wants her to walk up to him and break the boredom. His omni-tool has still not been connected to the extranet and while the artificial intelligence has informed him that there is a library in Starboard Observation he's had no desire to ask one of these humans to escort him.

Shepard barely glances at him before walking up to the shuttle, which has been lowered onto the floor, and as he follows her with his gaze for just a few seconds something flickers at the edge of his vision and another human female steps out of thin air.

"There you are!" she says, stepping lightly away from the wall mere meters away from Saren. How long has she been standing there, cloaked? He feels surprisingly uncomfortable despite the knowledge that many other eyes have been watching him continuously since he came down here.

xxx

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Kasumi says very little as the Kodiak dips into atmo, taking them to Milgrom, the capital of Bekenstein; a world so distant from Shepard's reality that she doesn't know what to think. While the thief makes last-minute arrangements via her omni-tool, Shepard stares out the window at a landscape soaked in golden late afternoon sunlight and wonders briefly if they will remain long enough for dusk to turn the rich shades of early evening into monochrome and almost looks forward to that. She hasn't experienced the dirtside shift between night and day in years.

xxx

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After a pickup and a change of clothes, they're in a skycar and Shepard furrows her brow at Kasumi's compliment, feeling uncomfortable without her armour and combat boots. There is a small shield-generator in the clasp at her throat, at least, but even though the young woman at her side assures her that their gear will be available to them shortly, she'd prefer to go in with guns blazing.

"Why a statue of Saren?" she asks as they go over the plan. Kasumi gives her a one-shoulder shrug, as carefree as Shepard will soon learn that she nearly always is.

"It was the only thing I was both willing to part with and unable to sell. No one wants to be associated with that mess, even in private, and I didn't find the time to melt it down into gold bricks. This way it still serves a purpose."

That almost draws a smile out of Shepard, the first one since she greeted Anderson.

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Once they're in the vault and Shepard feels the reassuring weight of her armour over her shoulders, things finally go her way. She takes a moment to look at a few of Hock's (no doubt illegaly obtained) pieces as they search for the greybox, and while she finds many of them beautiful she feels no compunction when she fires a bullet into one of the sculptures, effectively obliterating it, when Hock won't shut his face. She doesn't know if there's a plan or escape route once she's ignited the crime lord's fury and that is just the way she likes it, living on the very edge of mortal danger where every breath filling her lungs might be the last one.

Of course, she makes it out. She always does.


	5. Chapter 5

Shepard refuses to allow any emotion besides impatience show on her face when the hologram of a large, mostly empty room forms around her and the man who thinks himself her employer breathes out a puff of smoke as he watches her. Does he light a cigarette solely for the sake of maintaining an image, or does he actually have one lit at all times? This is the third time they've spoken, and she is yet to see him without one between his fingers. His slow drags on the small roll of dried leaves and paper just seems too convenient to be pure happenstance.

"Shepard", he says, pulling smoke into his lungs again and she wishes he'd just get on with it. He is enjoying keeping her waiting far too much, is enjoying all the supposed power he has far too much.

She folds her arms, leans back. "I have a mission to take care of. Get on with it."

He smiles. She doesn't like it.

"I hear you've brought someone on board, but I don't recall giving you a dossier for him. I won't make a habit of doubting your decisions - you get results, and that's what matters - but it's hardly wise to bring a turian who detests humanity on a mission dedicated to preserving our race."

"I didn't agree to do this so you could second-guess me every time I deviate from your plans. You want things to run differently, iyou/i take command of the mission."

"I'm just saying that you should keep an eye on him. I wouldn't want my investment in you to go to waste."

It angers her more than she'd like to admit. "I'm fully capable of dealing with the situation", she retorts and terminates the call, but not before catching the Illusive Man's eyes over who knows how many light years and the smirk at the corner of his mouth makes her want to punch him.

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Garrus stands just outside the elevator in engineering, hands on the rail and eyes trained on the older turian one deck below him. He is... displeased, definitely, and something else that doesn't fit into his vocabulary but nonetheless rests heavy and swirling in his chest. It has to do with the fact that everyone else on this ship has earned their place there, even the Cerberus people because as much as their allegiance with that despicable organisation - no matter what Miranda says there are no excuses for what they've done and one good deed doesn't make up for all the deaths leading up to it - disgusts him, they're dedicated to their current mission and there is a definite want to support Shepard tied in with that dedication. No matter what his personal opinions are on the people they've picked up already, each and every one of them is good at their job and he's been with Shepard too long to doubt her decisions now.

Well, except in this case, because Saren Arterius doesn't fit in with the rest. He didn't earn his place here. Sure, every turian knew of him from the moment he was promoted to active service after just a year of military training just as every turian followed his career through the Relay 314 Incident and heard how his brother brought Valluvian priests back from history... or something along those lines. Garrus was too young to grasp the extent of those events; all he knows is that the temple the priests were in was destroyed by an orbital strike and that Saren became the youngest member of the Spectres two years later. He has a long list of accomplishments, this is true, and even Shepard - dauntless, brilliant, unconquerable as she is - has some way left until her list is of equal length, even if she did order the destruction of a Reaper and returned from the dead.

The cop-turned-mercenary breathes out slowly, about to return to the battery when he hears the hiss from the elevator doors opening.

"Garrus."

Shepard's voice is mildly surprised but not questioning and she says nothing as she walks up to him, stopping by his side and following his gaze. They watch Saren for a while, his hunched back and barely moving head and elbows leaning on knees and hands hanging limply, talons pointing at the floor.

"You know I don't doubt your decisions", Garrus says eventually and sees how Shepard turns her gaze to him out of the corner of his eye.

"But?"

"This just... feels strange, having him on the Normandy. Like the galaxy's upside-down." Again, he adds mentally, thinking of her improbable death and the two years of grief that followed, dispersed in a heartbeat once he spotted the N7 on her chestplate through his scope.

"I hear you. And the moment he becomes a problem, I have a bullet waiting to lodge itself in his brain. But until then it seems like we'll need every capable shot, tech and biotic we can find and as long as we're without Wrex, Kaidan, Tali and Liara I at least want people whose abilities I can count on. I'm prepared to trust him as much as I'm prepared to trust Cerberus, but he was a Spectre and that's got to be good for something in the field."

"Hm." Garrus glances down at Shepard, moving his mandibles tensely. He knows the conversation is over and thus doesn't offer further commentary, just watches her watching Saren until she walks away to continue her post-mission rounds. He likes that she still keeps to that habit. It offers some stability after the two chaotic years he lived without her and everything she gave him and the rest of her squad and maybe, he thinks, even this impostor-Normandy can become the kind of ship people should write legends about.

xxx

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Saren stands as she approaches, folds his arms as he watches her. She is once again unarmoured and he is once again noticing the smallness of her, the frailty of her skin and bones and lungs and wonders if he will have to reevaluate her every time he sees her.

He remembers her neck in his hand, the way her flesh gave under the fingers of the geth arm welded to his shoulder but he does not remember equating that to weakness. Perhaps because she had not yet died. Now... now he sees that she is made of easily-destroyed matter, sinew and synapses rather than fire and solid fury. Someone who can be beaten. Someone who does not have to stay in his way.

"Now, you don't like me and the feeling is mutual but we'll both have to deal with each other's company for a while because we have a problem on our hands and I find myself in need of a new team", she says but offers no explanation, no word on where the rest of her old team is - he knows Garrus is on board, has seen the other turian stare down into the cargo hold from the engineering deck - and he doesn't really care, he tells himself, but of course there is the hint of a question forming at the back of his mind because he knows how the others fought and in one case died for her. Perhaps the others went down with her ship and were not deemed worthy of resurrection. He would not be surprised. A quarian child, a krogan mercenary and an unremarkable human - what sort of a crew is that for a woman who can impress a Reaper? The asari, the Prothean expert might have been useful once upon a time but now that the secret of the Conduit is known he sees no further use for her, and cannot imagine why Shepard would either, should the girl still live.

"The Collectors", he notes, folding his arms.

"Good to see prison hasn't ruined your cognitive ability. However, considering certain changes" - he notices her eyes falling to his side, where tubes once hung, where he is still scarred beneath his clothing - "I need to know if you're as capable as you were. For starters, I noticed there were no mention of your biotics in the notes C-Sec transferred to me."

His mandibles tighten in contempt, every inch of him despising that she has read every intimate detail researchers and scientists have put together when examining him and all the parts that were not him and he clenches his fists in anger thinking of how superior she must have felt while reading about how he allowed the Reaper to possess him, use him as a puppet and he tries to ignore the taste of the words as they move across his tongue.

"I got that power from Sovereign."

"Huh." The sound is noncommittal, as is her face. He unclenches one hand, reluctantly, as she explains that he is of no use to her until she knows he'll be a worthwhile contribution to her squad and commands him to fight her, hand to hand.

xxx

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Shepard is well aware that getting so close to Saren is stupid and reckless, but she also knows that if they don't do this now, on her terms and on her ship rather than in the field where every rock could hide an unpleasant surprise for all she knows, she might very well end up dead again and she really doesn't have time for that. Hell, humanity as a whole doesn't have time for that.

So she spreads her feet and curls into a fighting stance and avoids the turian's knees and teeth and claws until those cold synthetic eyes flash blue into her own, pierced with cybernetic red, when she deliberately allows a fist to connect with her shoulder. It is not enough to bruise her skin but it is enough for him to pull back, transform the relentless blows into carefully aimed hatred and even Shepard is impressed. Within moments he goes from uncoiled anger to the clever, fearless turian she followed across half the galaxy and as her arm slams into his chest she can feel his geth hand closing around her other wrist. She wrenches it loose, steps back to catch her breath before aiming a kick at his left shin which forces him to focus on his balance long enough for her to spin around and jab an elbow into his ribs. He hisses, air seeping out from his lungs despite the hard metallic-like carapace and lands a blow to her shoulder blade before she turns again and places a foot behind one of his, pulling her leg back and felling him to the ground as he manages to shove a knee into her gut. She is reluctantly impressed, not just because he found an opportunity even while falling but by everything he proves to be. This fight - for that is what it is, rather than sparring or a test of strength - is every bit as passionate and furious as their last stand in the Council chambers with the light from exploding ships as their backdrop.

As she watches him stand up and shake his head, Shepard thinks that if she can just take this, all this desperation and umbrage, and turn it towards the ancient synthetic creatures that so nearly managed to tame this wild and fierce creature with a wrath in his soul that matches her own... if she can do that, perhaps even Saren can redeem himself.

xxx

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The woman walks away without offering him a hand, perhaps because she knows he would not accept it, and Saren goes back to his cot as members of the ship crew appear one by one. He did not notice that they left, so focused was he on Shepard the moment she appeared and he rationalises that by reducing it to self-preservation; he focused on the most likely threat and kept her in his views... but whether he likes it or not, that is not entirely true. Beneath all the layers of anger and frustration and hatred lies something else, something that is not quite admiration and not quite jealousy but resentment at whatever made her a diamond and him merely a rock. Unyelding, hard, able to crush his enemies, yes... and he is as lethal as she is, as determined and capable, but something within her stubborn human mind separates her from everything he has known and though he pushes the memory down, just as he has during the years in custody, a small part of him remembers that Shepard saw through all of Sovereigns lies and gave Saren a chance and perhaps, because of that and because she offers no apologies and because he has no doubts she will save the entire galaxy whether it wants to be saved by her or not, he can allow himself to follow her lead. For a time. Shepard has proven herself worthy of something very similar to respect.

He does not admit it, but even that is merely rationalising. Deep within his chest there has been a small, nearly insignificant - insignificant because he won't allow himself to give in to it - feeling of relief. Two years of crushing loneliness, of being reduced to nothing but a traitor despite all the things he has done for his people and the other Council races, for the igood of the galaxy/i, have been eating away at him, slowly driving him mad. His mind has been empty without the voice of the Reaper there, a solid constant ever since he found the ship two decades previous, and the void has been filled with things he would have rather forgotten. He does not regret the lives he has taken, not even Nihlus' because it was a necessity when it happened, nor does he regret the death of Benezia. Still, there are things that can haunt even Saren Arterius and he wishes he could escape the intrusive silence.

He would almost rather have Shepard in front of him, armoured and armed to the teeth with that cruelty in her fiery green eyes that sent him to prison, to the most unbearable punishment he could imagine then and can think of now and he has barely finished the thought before she strides through the cargo hold again with that white and red stripe down her arm and determination straightening her spine. Saren realises that more time than he thought has passed, presses his mandibles tightly towards his teeth in anger over losing track of reality. However, he is not left in solitude for long as Shepard walks up to him, this time followed by the woman who brought her back to life and two members of the ship crew carrying a crate.

Miranda waves the people with the crate forward, instructs them to set it down and then allows them to leave. Saren glances at her, merely acknowledging her presence and actions, before looking at Shepard.

"Get your armour on", she says, jerking her chin at the now opened crate. He looks into it, recognising the familiar shape of a turian chestplate but sees that it is not his own. Of course, that one had holes and tears to accommodate the synthetic parts Sovereign added to him; parts now removed, picked from his flesh and bones by scientists like insects picked from rotten wood by long-beaked birds.

He pulls the armour on, feels as though he can hear a little piece of freedom each time the seals close and despite the armour being too tight in some places and too wide in others, he feels more at ease now than he has for years.

"I still think this is a bad idea. It's too soon, you don't know-" Miranda begins, but is silenced by Shepard holding up her hand.

"Noted. We'll hardly get into any trouble, though, so your concern is unnecessary. Besides, you're there to make sure all your hard work hasn't been for nothing."

Saren despises, hates the women for talking as though he is not there - worse, insignificant, and a roar rises in his mind about how he was, whether for good or bad reasons, the most powerful organic in the galaxy for a short time and he deserves more. It is as if Shepard know this, can feel it in her inferior but imposing mind, because she silences this roar by catching the turian's gaze and tells him that he is to join her and Miranda as they board another ship to ask another person to join the team. He nods. There is opportunity here. If he proves to not be trouble, if he follows this human commander's lead she might eventually bring him groundside. Maybe to a world where one lone turian can easily slip away, provided he can find a way to remove the tracker - it is cleverly placed behind his carapace; out of reach for sharp talons or a knife - or at least disrupt its signal. Perhaps he can get off-world again by contacting the Re-

No. He is not that desperate. The thought is habit, remains of two decades with Sovereign. It is not what he wants and he reluctantly realises that his best shot at freedom is to follow this human's command and that is difficult to accept. He has worked alone or been a leader all his life; obeying someone else is alien to him, particularly when this someone is an alien herself... but as he watches her march through the docking tube to the other ship, her back straight and her head proudly held high, he thinks that the fact that the alien is the only person who's ever managed to best him makes it just that much more bearable.

xxx

xxx

The security guard - a Blue Suns merc, a nobody - barely has time to finish asking Shepard for her guns before all three of them stand with weapon in hand. The pistol Saren has been granted does not have a thermal clip, but the hiss as it unfolds in his grasp is still so resolute, so certain.

"I'll relinquish one bullet. Where do you want it?"

It is not a threat, so far from a threat. Shepard's words hold nothing but a marble-solid promise and the former Spectre at her shoulder is tempted to smile when the ship's CO arrives, for this other turian - Warden Kuril - cannot look into the Commander's eyes for more than a few seconds before foolishly allowing her to officially board his vessel loaded with guns. She has faced hordes of geth and walked out alive. She has faced him. But Saren knows that piercing gaze, those eyes like green fire. Greater men and women than this barefaced turian have met them and faltered. Not Saren, though. No, he held her gaze when he intended to end his own life, had once wanted the scorching determination in them to burn the Reaper from his soul.

They walk through a door, into a narrow corridor that curves like a vein through the body of the ship and as Kuril opens his mouth, Saren tenses.

Shepard has brought him to a prison ship.

He stares at the cell units moving around, barely listens to the Warden (he thought that was an odd title, wondered why it wasn't Captain or Admiral or Commander) speaking about the security or Jack. Saren feels trapped in his own mind again, a creeping panic climbing up his spine when Kuril leaves and Shepard glances at her two squad members.

Did she and Miranda ask about escape attempts and security protocols because they plan to leave him here? Are the funds from Cerberus money they have payed to ensure that he is kept safe in a box somewhere between worlds?

No. He is paranoid. Shepard is cruel, but not this cruel.

Not this cruel.

If she was she wouldn't hand out death threats to guards to make them stop beating a prisoner.

She wouldn't turn the back of her easily cracked skull to him. She is cruel, but not that cruel and not this stupid... and too late, Saren realises that it is not Shepard's intentions he should have focused on.

"My apologies, Shepard. You're more valuable as a prisoner than a customer. Not to mention Arterius", Kuril says and Saren roars in fury, whipping the pistol out on instinct before he remembers that it is useless to him, that he is useless against all these pathetic mercenaries as long as he is without both bullets and biotics and he hates Shepard for possessing both.

"You talked up your noble intentions with this prison. But it turns out you're a criminal like the rest." Shepard's voice is low, hoarse, dangerous as she speaks and Saren can almost appreciate the promise of violence that lie at the edges of her words.

They roll into cover, Miranda at Shepard's side.

"Stay down", the dark-haired woman tells Saren. "We'll take care of this."

"Three guns are better than two. Kill him if he shoots me. I'll do the same for you", Shepard interjects and punches a couple of clips from her SMG before tossing them over to the turian, seconds before the first mercs arrive and the familliar, comfortable sound of gunfire rings through his brain.

xxx

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Miranda is not pleased. Not that she ever feels particularly so - accomplished, even satisfied when she's in a good mood, sure. Never pleased, though, and this situation certainly warrants her to be the exact opposite.

She knew that Shepard would be difficult from the start, of course she did. She is highly intelligent and more than capable of calculating a person's response to any given situation, provided she has some data to back those calculations up with. Given that she has learned every intimate detail about the woman who is temporarily her commanding officer, down to and including the exact curve of her toenails, Miranda was not surprised that Shepard chose to go after Archangel and take a drink at Afterllife rather than prioritise the locating and extraction of Mordin Solus like the Cerberus officer had suggested. Choosing to bring the ex-Spectre onto the ship had been an unlikely scenario, but not unexpected, and Miranda is very well aware that the choice to bring him here is a deliberate provocation. Shepard does not like Cerberus and strives to prove this every step of the way. It is likely a way to tell herself that she is real and her own and not just a walking, talking heap of flesh and cybernetics that ithinks/i it is Commander Shepard.

All of this is expected. That doesn't mean that it isn't frustrating as hell.

Still, Miranda enjoys working with Shepard. She enjoys watching the body she hovered over for two years move, particularly during a fight, because that more than anything is proof that Cerberus has gone above and beyond what anyone thought possible. It isn't just the first human Spectre using her biotics to charge from one end of the room to the other; it's a marvel of science, proof of what Cerberus can do for humanity.

She just doesn't enjoy it right now, because she has to divide her attention between Shepard, their enemies and Saren, or so she tells herself. In reality, the turian is as reliable as Jacob, at least for the moment. He watches Shepard's back as she lights the tube-like corridor up with her biotics, a dark shadow against a wall of blue-white brightness, and fires at every enemy he sees. Considering that he hasn't been in a fight since before Shepard died, he's good. Not as good as Miranda, of course, but good. The Commander knows what she's doing, Miranda will give her that.

Except for when she decides to release every damned prisoner on Purgatory to get to one person.

It's reckless. Exceptionally so. There is no guarantee that Jack will make it, particularly since she proves to be barely a girl without weapons or armour. The ability to punch through a bulkhead is of little use when bullets are coming in your direction. A small part of Miranda would like to think that Shepard is trusting the Illusive Man's judgement, that his recommendation to have Jack on the team has something to do with the decision to get the young woman out of cryostasis. Of course, the reality is most likely that Shepard takes the lame attempt to imprison her as an insult to her abilities - honestly, what did Kuril expect when cajoling the Commander with anything less than fifteen guards with rocket launchers? - and she'll be damned if she doesn't get what she came here for.

Miranda can appreciate that.

xxx

xxx

"This is for the good of the galaxy!"

Shepard grits her teeth. Her translator is making Kuril's voice sound so much like Saren's and she is angry because this man is a petty, pathetic criminal who profits on other people's misery while indulging in his own illusion of greatness. She doesn't deny the fact that Purgatory is a good idea, save for the part where prisoners are sold to a life of torture. She may not have any compunction when it comes to killing or placing a well-timed bullet in a non-vital part as a warning, but torture is a thing that gains you nothing, only changes you for the worse.

This turian is already as bad as they come. He uses his people as cannon fodder, throws them her way while he hides in an impenetrable bubble. It is almost a shame that he didn't bother with protecting the shield generators better. She only requires a handful of shots before all his shields are down and blue, blue blood pools beneath his lifeless body.

"Let's go get Jack and get off this ship."

Miranda and Saren only nod and follow her through more corridors, fight off more guards. But the mercs are disorganised, more concerned with getting off the ship now that their leader's voice no longer can be heard over the comm and more and more channels go dark. The corridors are littered with corpses of prisoners from every species Shepard has encountered as well as the bodies of several of the Blue Suns. The fighting here has been desperate; it is obvious that they are getting close to the docking area.

And there she is, her fragile frame telling nothing of the raw power that runs through her nervous system. Shepard is very impressed and has no intention of letting the batarian sneaking up on her take this powerhouse down.

The gunshot calls Jack's attention. For a fleeting second there is something very much resembling fear dancing across the strong features, soon replaced by doubt. Good. She's not attacking, proving that she's clever enough to recognise Shepard and her team as strangers as well as gathering that they have no current interest in taking her down.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I just saved your ass", Shepard replies.

Jack has asked a perfectly valid question, but today has not been a good day and Shepard never claimed to be particularly patient or good with people. Neither has this younger woman, apparently, who also proves to have a healthy distrust of Cerberus - which complicates things. Damn Illusive Man and his idiocy.

"I'm offering to be your friend. You don't want to be my enemy."

"She'll hunt you to the darkest corners of the galaxy", Saren states, unbidden, and Shepard is taken by surprise although she is careful not to show it. She has a feeling that something important has changed between them but is uncertain of what. His gaze still clings to the back of her skull, is entangled in her hair, and it is not with good intention.

At least Jack is surprisingly reasonable - of course she, too, realises that her choice is between a burning, dying Purgatory and the sleek Normandy, be she a cerberus vessel or not. Miranda is, expectantly, less reasonable but Shepard has no time or desire to please her XO. If Jack finds a reason to blow up a Cerberus facility, Shepard has no current objections.

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a/n: jfc just writing the first four paragraphs took me six months and then the rest just flowed out of me over the past few weeks. creativity pls, stop being so irregular.

but yay jack~ next: grunt & horizon!


	6. announcement and shit

Hello darlings,

I know it's generally frowned upon to post an update in place of a chapter, but I'm going to trust that none of you report me for this as it would be far ruder to just leave you hanging.

I'm rewriting this story for the second time (actually third but you never saw the very first version, so that doesn't really count) and I am also moving my stuff to AO3. Should you want to keep reading this story, I'd be very happy to see you there. Should you choose not to because honestly this is kind of inconvenient if you just want to read some stories, I won't blame you.

Anyway, you can find me on archiveofourown dot org slash users slash ocheeva (you can also find me on tumblr under the same name if that's your thing), where you'll find this story retitled _Resist [Mass Effect AU]_ and whether we hang out there or not it has been a pleasure having you as my readers, the majority of you have been super sweet to the point where your reviews have given me toothaches.

Kisses!


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